


Raven-Haired Wizard of Asgard

by Buntheridon



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Thor (Movies)
Genre: Astral Projection, Auras, Class Differences, F/M, Flirting, Hiddles-voice, I totally stole the sending from elfquest so sorry, Illusions, I’m aware of the corniness but I kinda like it so shush, Jotunn, Mages, Magic, Masturbation, POV First Person, Prince Loki, Slow Build, Smut, Teasing, Telepathic Sex, Telepathy, Tom Hiddleston - Loki, Wizards, asgardian feast, astral projection and fun times, blood has a glow color now, cocky behaviour, damn she’s becoming a mary sue that isn’t my intention, lots of euphemisms, magic studies, missionary but hey it works for me, real touching in second chapter, smut but not really touching except oneself, swelling desire and so forth, very mildly dubious consent at first, very theatrical choices of words, very very light dom/sub if you look sideways, well not that slow but hey
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-23
Updated: 2018-08-05
Packaged: 2019-04-27 00:11:40
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,006
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14413470
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Buntheridon/pseuds/Buntheridon
Summary: A student of magic from a noble family finds herself in a boring asgardian party but is soon entertained by the sight of a certain dark-haired illusionist. Flirting ensues and other fun activities later on.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> My first ever anything anywhere. I'm not really that well into asgardian lore/marvel history, so please excuse me for all probable mishaps. Light Loki flirt/smut dressed as a story, where I made up the magic rules as I went, so they might not be compatible with the original movie stuff. Also I'm not a native english speaker so there's that. I'm sure I use too many commas everywhere. Be gentle <3  
> Probably a one-shot.
> 
> Edit: Ok I changed my mind. Not a one-shot after all :P

The banquet at Asgard has been going on for days now. I arrived yesterday with my maids and sisters. We’re of a moderately noble family, neither highly important nor completely unknown. My purpose here is advancing my magical studies and our arrival just happened to coincide with the great feast for a battle well fought.

I do not care for drinking nor such noise the heroes are making, but courtesy demands we spend a few hours at the feast honoring them. I’ve been eating dessert grapes halfheartedly in the fortunate shade of my more lively sisters and amusing myself by memorizing the smallest spells I’ve recently learned.

Among all the ruckus and merriment no-one pays attention to these light and gentle detection spells, which also do absolutely nothing since no-one’s hiding anything magically. I encourage myself to try the family tree spells, to remember some of the guests better. Three seats away there’s a nobleman, who is blood related to that red bearded soldier on the other side of the table… That battlemaiden on the next table has a lineage that reaches Odin’s in four steps. They all glow with slightly different color when looked through the spell.

That’s when something unexpected happens. A man two tables away, his back towards my direction, glows a color I do not recognize. Weird. I have studied all the families and lineages of Asgard and her vassal realms and this is something else entirely. There shouldn’t be anyone from foreign let alone enemy realms in this banquet.

The man turns to a soldier to his right and I can see his face. There’s something special about him that immediately catches my eye. He is handsome, no, _beautiful_ , with sharp features and lips that could have been drawn by an artist. His hair is raven dark and long enough to rest on his shoulders and his eyes are green or some such earthly colour. He is thoroughly alluring, with a playful grin on his face and intelligent, sparkling eyes. Watching him for a while I note he does not drink as much as the soldiers, takes a sip here and there, almost as if only trying to appear to be drinking.

I try my spell one more time to be sure I haven’t just misread it. What I don’t expect is the man to turn and look straight into my eyes at that exact moment. I interrupt the spell and look away, pretending to be interested in something my sisters were talking about. When I carefully look back after a while, the raven-haired man is sitting sideways, talking to the soldier, but glancing towards me immediately, when my eyes are on him. His eyes flash an icy blue glow just for a second and he winks at me.

I feel a blush creeping up my neck and cheeks. Someone so adept at magic, that he’s able to detect a mere probing spell? I have never heard of such capability. I am baffled also to what comes to his eyes, but I assume it’s some illusion spell I have yet to learn.

”Nindael, are you not well?” asks my sister Nephel. ”Have you drunk too much? Your face is a bit red.”

”Probably, my dear”, I answer giggling, and take another grape. When I put it between my lips, my curiosity wins over my prudence and I glance in the direction of the raven-haired man once again. He is looking at me, and he also has a grape in his hand. His hands are elegant, fingers beautiful, long and slender. He puts the grape between his teeth and just for a second I see his tongue, licking gently the small round fruit before he swallows it.

The burn in my loins surprises me completely. I gasp and forget to eat my grape. The man watches me with an expression that is both playful and darkly bold. He has a somewhat powerful, almost regal aura on him and to my horror I realize only this late that his outfit also outranks mine by several levels. Judging by the stripes on his sleeve he is one of the highest nobilities, and yet I do not remember or know who he is.

Fortunately the time strikes midnight and it is now socially acceptable to retire. Slightly shaken I rise and announce my departure silently to my sisters. My maid and I bow to the hosts and we slip away from the huge hall. In my peripheral vision, which is now wider than it used to be thanks to all the magic training, I see a tiny flash of blue and feel something warm tingling in my lower back. I glance nonchalantly behind me but there’s no-one near us. My eyes travel back to the hall and I see the regal dark-haired man looking at me. I blush, and turn away.

At my quarters I undress with the help of my dear Amelea and indulge in a hot bath that’s been prepared for me. Relaxing warmth of the water engulfs me. I think back about all the things that happened tonight. The man with the raven hair has to be someone close to our hosts, but how is it then possible for his aura to be of a completely foreign race? The blush creeps back on my face and I realize it has nothing to do with embarrassment of being caught doing tricks. A mere recollection of the man arouses me.

Then something quite disturbing happens. The tingling feeling I felt leaving the hall now creeps up my legs. I know it’s some sort of telepathic magic but it has never occurred to me to use it to… _touch_ people from afar. I gasp but slap my hand on my mouth timely so as to not alert my maid.

_“It’s not very polite to touch unintroduced people without their consent, now is it?”_

A deep, velvety voice sounds in my ears but I see no-one. I glance at the door and my maid doesn’t seem to have heard.

_“Don’t worry. Only you can hear this.”_

I have no idea how to respond so that whoever is addressing me would hear my reply. The caressing tingle slows at my thighs and then disappears. I realize I have been holding my breath and sigh very deeply.

_“Oh, would you rather I continue that?”_

“No!” I yelp and realize too late I did it out loud.

“My lady, are you alright?” asks Amelea from the other room.

“Yes, I almost dropped the soap, don’t worry.”

The velvety voice continues in my ears.

_“When you’ve bathed, I will come see you.”_

“What? Who are you?” I whisper at the air in general. The thought that someone knows I’m bathing makes me ponder whether or not they also see me here, now.

 _“ You know who I am_”, the voice drawls with a low chuckle that sends little jolts of desire below my waist. I see. I think I can connect the voice with the face.

“No, I… well, I think I know what you look like, but I don’t know _who_ you are.”

At that moment I almost scream in surprise, but happily my basic defense training doesn’t go amiss this time and I am able to suppress it. I see the raven haired man in front of me, standing there in the bathroom. Only, it isn’t really him but a very good illusion. I’ve studied this in detail and have almost an impeccable ability to spot which is an illusion and which is reality. 

_“As I said, my lady, we haven’t been introduced yet.”_

“So… does the illusion also see and hear?” I ask in a whisper, smiling. I won’t cover myself like the maids would. If he can see me, he sees my nakedness through the scent-oiled water.

_“Oooh, so you are very adept at this. Have you come to study?”_

“Yes.”

 _“The illusion does not have senses but mine can reach very far.”_ The illusion of the beautiful, enchanting man looks me in the eye and flashes a wickedly seductive smirk. I have no guarantee that the real person behind this is only looking at my face. The thought makes me hot but I still won’t cover myself – I am a lady. I slowly get up in the bathtub and stand proudly looking at the illusion.

“Amelea, would you kindly bring a towel?"

“Right away, my lady.”

 _“I will see you later, wizard”,_ says the image smiling deviously and disappears.

I release my maid to retire to her adjacent room as soon as she’s helped me into my nightgown and combed and braided my long red hair into a comfortable sleeping hairdo. The expectation of a secret nightly visit from this intriguing mage has me all tingly and warm. I have no certainty this has anything to do with personal interests. Under all that flirt he might just be here to make sure I don’t know too much. Maybe his foreign blood is a secret that wasn’t supposed to come out to anyone? But surely their high mages would have spotted that? No, it can’t be a secret. Still, I wonder…

_“May I enter?”_

It’s his voice in my ears, dripping with double entendre, even when we are yet complete strangers. His boldness tells of a status that must be nearly untouchable. A desire swells in my loins, making me shiver. There’s also a slight desire to slap him around the ears.

“Only briefly, my lord.”

_“Well, that remains to be seen.”_

The big chamber door opens and there he is, the beautiful raven-haired conjurer. He is wearing dark green and golden casual uniform, of rich leathers. He closes the door behind him slowly, watching me while doing it. Damn this man, I don’t even know his name and already he has dominion over my senses.

“I am Loki, prince of Asgard. A pleasure to meet you, lady Nindael”, he says with his deep voice, bowing lightly. My head spins.

“Dear mother in heaven, what have I done?! I beg your pardon, my lord.” I bow my head in submission.

“Everything is fine, my lady. Please, relax.” His eyes say otherwise, they look at me like we were to start battling… in the nude. If the protocol wouldn’t dictate my position, I would slap him for assuming before asking. Then I remember, and my curiosity wins over.

“Thank you kindly, my lord. There’s an issue that has been in my mind, if you don’t mind me asking…”

“Lady Nindael, may we leave the protocol? It is tiring and I feel we already know a bit of each other, owing to our mutual …probing.” He grins without hesitation and looks damnably attractive doing it.

“Fine by me, but then _this_ would have to happen”, I say with a slight triumph and raise my hand fast towards his high cheekbone.

He is faster than lightning. My wrist is caught in his grip and he doesn’t even look bothered. He holds my hand to his side, forcing me very close to his body. His nearness makes my lower abdomen tingle. 

“As much as I might deserve that, it was not me who started this.” His voice is low, seductive and hides a chuckle. He looks me in the eye.

“True. Which leads to my earlier question”, I continue, equally unfazed and dropping the honorifics. After all, we have probed each other already.

“Ask away”, he says, amused, and releases my hand. His fingers caress the sensitive underside of my wrist in passing. I suppress a shiver but feel a jolt of pleasure in my core. The lost prince of the greatest kingdom in all existence is surprisingly easygoing and sharp witted.

“I am not sure if this is a secret or not, but… your blood is not of the thunder family. Or any family that I know of.” I fear I may have stepped over a line of courtesy, but I don’t cower.

“It is a secret to all but the most skilled mages and Odin himself. I am a jotunn, brought here as a child after a battle between Asgard and Jotunheim.” His eyes flash that same icy blue and his features reveal pain and sadness, immediately covered by his seductive smile.

A frost giant! But he isn’t any taller than an average asgardian. I look him up and down. 

“Yes, my height, well… No-one has come to an acceptable explanation for that. I was a small child.”

“That is indeed fascinating. No other blood shows any shades of blue, and yours…”

He flashes again the blue in his eyes.

“…yes, that color.”

He strolls inside the guest quarters and sits on a soft cushioned sofa in the entertaining room. I follow him and sit opposite. He sits his long legs apart like men do, and I try not to look.

“So, what exactly have you come to learn here?”

“I’m interested in several lines of magic, but healing and communication are my priorities.”

“Not detecting or illusions?” he asks, eyes sparkling with that teasing smile.

“Maybe, depends on how much time the masters here can spare me.”

“The illusion master is definitely going to have free time.”

“How---“ and then I realize. “But you are a _prince!_ ”

“Who has absolutely no other affairs of state to bother with, as my adoptive brother is taking care of all those. And I _am_ the best there is”, he says matter-of-factly.

This is going to be interesting.

“Would you like a lesson now?” he says casually, but I sense there’s a trick hidden there.

“Well, why not?” I play along.

“Touch me.”

“Excuse me?” I am baffled for a brief moment.

“Remotely. Like I did today to you.” His eyes are half closed, looking at me with a challenge and heavy flirt. He’s leaning on the cushions like he owns the place, which is not too far from the truth.

“Yes, well, _of course_ now that you’ve introduced yourself…”

My sarcasm makes him chuckle and somehow that feels very satisfying. He looks at me intently while still keeping that nonchalant and lazy appearance.

Holdind up my hands and concentrating, I try to remember how to do a spell to move objects remotely. Then I change it slightly. I touch the cushions of the sofa beside him, minutely ruffling them, then move the touch towards him. While touching objects with magic I don’t feel them in any way and I have to rely on my sight alone. But when my remote touch reaches his thigh – I didn’t think this through and now it’s too late to move somewhere less erogenous – I feel the warmth of his flesh in my hands and it startles me. I gasp a little. His lips twitch like he’s suppressing a giggle. Nevertheless I continue and don’t let my feeling show. Now I can’t _not_ look and I see through his tight leather trousers he is very well endowed indeed.

Loki lets out a low purr when my touch reaches his inner thigh. That simultaneously arouses and infuriates me.

“Yes… that’s it...”

I have to stop the spell otherwise my pants will catch fire. Or drown, to be precise. I rest my hands on my own thighs and try to calm my breathing, avoiding his eyes.

“That was quick – have you done this before?” he asks.

“No, not this one.”

“Well, you are awfully skilled for a first timer”, he teases, letting his voice drip syrup on my senses.

“My lord, it is awfully late... if you don’t mind…”

“Indeed, you did arrive today. Pardon my thoughtlessness.” He rises and bows towards me slightly. I also stand up and walk towards the door. When I turn around I can’t avoid looking at him. His eyes are green, yet I now see the cold icicle blue behind them, like it is there all the time but only for those who know to look. The play in them makes me quiver – is he serious or does he simply enjoy making everyone want him? I’m not sure if there is magic involved or if he’s just naturally that alluring.

“Sweet dreams, lady Nindael, and may our paths cross again at the earliest juncture possible”, he bows like a prince in a bedtime story. I smile and reply with politeness. He leaves.

Little did I know how much of a bedtime story he would become, and how soon.

I wake up abruptly after sleeping soundly for six hours. Disorientation lasts for about ten seconds and then I realize why I woke up. I had a dream, a very steamy, intimate and detailed dream about prince Loki and I woke up just moments before having a beautiful climax in his hands.

My core is throbbing and my panties are damp. I can still feel his skin against mine. My breathing is almost gasps for air. I should come to terms with my desires which are now apparent. But then a thought creeps in... What if he invaded my dreams with magic? That would be low, but I cannot be certain. If he did, I wouldn’t be able to trust him as a teacher, no matter how much there is real mutual tension between us.

I do something I might regret later. It might be the pulsating feeling driving me or the dark hours of the early morning, when sanity forgets to touch people’s hearts… I try if I could talk to him through the same spell he used to whisper to me in my bath.

“Lord Loki, are you awake?” I say in a whisper concentrating on the image of his beautiful face.

Nothing. No sound, no feeling of a connection. But I think I did everything right.

“Lord Loki, did you just magic yourself into my dream?” I say jokingly to the air in general, already given up on the silly attempt.

 _“Who is this?”_ I hear his voice - and it has that distinct uncertain mumble when you’ve been awoken in the middle of your deep sleep.

I curse before I can stop myself.

 _“Lady Nindael, I wouldn’t have guessed you the type to poke people in their sleep”,_ he teases, now sounding more like he’s in control of his consciousness. I cannot hide. I lay in my bed, my abdomen still sending erotic throbs through my senses, the dream vivid in my mind - and his voice in my ears isn’t doing anything to calm me down, on the contrary.

This was a very, _very_ stupid idea.

“My lord, I deeply regret disturbing you in your sleep. I made a mistake and…”

_“Tell me about this dream.”_

His voice is a low, dripping sexual tickle of insufferable feather touch on all of my nerves. I so hope he doesn’t hear me, as I gasp wantonly at his demand. I try to gather myself.

“I… it was nothing. I just woke up and thought it was a … a visitation, but I must have been half asleep coming up with a silly thought like that”, I mumble, and that was actually true now that I think of it.

 _“I would really… like to know… what happened in your dream”,_ he says slowly, echoing in my ear, letting me hear an intake of breath in between his words. He doesn’t even need to use any magic nor touch me. His voice alone feels like a caress and I suppress a whimper. I press my thighs together so I wouldn’t indulge in my urges to touch myself, but that’s almost as if I had – the pressure is _delicious_.

_“I don’t mind if you do, my lady… you know I would even participate should the invitation present itself.”_

What is he, a mind reader? I feel cornered - but not in a bad way.

“My lord, you must be half asleep as well. I do not know what you mean by that.”

_“Did you know that even if it’s not precisely possible to read minds per se, if unguarded, images and emotions can be glimpsed in a person’s mind? Especially if the emotion involved is very powerful.”_

“I didn’t know that”, is all I manage to say.

_“Your dream, my lady…”_

And the events of the dream flash in my mind, I cannot stop it. His touch on my bare belly and my things; his dominating stare and those cold, glowing blue eyes.

_“Yes.”_

“What? No!”

_“No what?”_

“Don’t you dare peek into my mind!”

_“You were accusing me of your own imaginings. I’d say it’s justified I at least see what it was you accused me of. I must say… I wouldn’t have done it precisely that way…”_

Oh curse all the kingdoms and heavens alike. I would like to stay angry but my need is so strong I should either be left to my own ministrations at this very moment - or be helped in said need immediately. I let my mind continue the dream, conjure images of caressing hands everywhere on my skin, his lips slowly moving downwards from my breasts. My core throbs and I whine.

It’s like I slapped him with a wet towel of pure sex. I hear his gasp and then a laugh.

_“Would you like me to –“_

“YES.”

I feel his cold remote magic touch sliding between my thighs and over my sensitive clitoris and I almost sob, it feels so good. My body aches wonderfully and curves towards the touch. His image appears in my mind for a moment, dressed in the regal green. His smile is wicked and playful, and he opens his lips to lick his fingers obscenely. I feel it on my clit and my breathing is turning into sobs and gasps. Gods, I need more, I want him inside me. I imagine it and send it towards his mind.

 _“If you don’t stop smashing me with those images I will have no other option than to penetrate your rooms a second time this night”,_ he whispers with that voice of unimaginable erotica.

I slide my fingers into my now drenched underpants and moan when I reach myself.

“You… haven’t… _ahh_ … penetrated… my _rooms_ just yet, my lord Loki.”

_“You are an excellent student, Nindael. You have managed… to put me into the same state as yourself, which forces me to join you… ahh… in this… debauchery.”_

An image of him, his swollen manhood in his hand, doesn’t flash inside my mind. It flashes in front of me, above my bed, visible and clear just for a few seconds. He is gorgeous, his raven dark hair tousled and his high cheeks slightly red. He moves his hand on himself and at the same time I feel him slide inside me, and it’s almost real, even if it’s just remote magic. I try to keep my eyes open as I feel a huge wave of pleasure nearing me. The erotic expression on his face, his half open eyes looking straight at me and his beautiful mouth opening in a groan push me crashing into the wave and I moan and sob, rubbing myself maniacally. He joins me, his image flickering and then disappearing, but I hear his deep moans in my ears as he rides the same wave with me.

I will call this first lesson a success.

 

 


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> More sexy sorcery.

Behind the huge, almost endless library halls there is a relatively small sparring area reserved for practitioners of magic. It’s a sort of patio in the upper parts of the palace, half outside in the open courtyard, half covered by a ceiling so high up I keep forgetting it’s there. The balcony, if you will, is surrounded by stone benches and decorative pillars. The view from the ledge is breathtaking; you can see the golden city and all the way to the horizon of endless warm light.

It’s been two days since the banquet …and the princely meeting that keeps bugging my concentration. I’ve been appointed to the revered Hamrnir, an old and patient wizard well versed in healing magic. He is testing me for the basics and I have done well, but not as well as I know I could. He wouldn’t know that but it annoys me.

I keep glancing around even though I know I’d feel it if _he_ were near.

By now I’ve heard lots of rumors and stories about him. Some call him “trickster” and “the one with a silver tongue”. The nicknames suit his character well. He’d probably send a _probe_ before meeting me again. I chuckle at the thought and my spell fails.

“My lady, it is probably best we end for today”, says the wise and observant teacher.

“Yes, I apologize. I am not at my best, revered Hamrnir.”

“I know exactly which books to recommend to you. Follow me, please”.

With three heavy and rather old tomes in tow I find a nice shaded study table in a corner of the huge library. It’s late afternoon and the light illuminates the floors but doesn’t reach the bookshelves - by design, of course.

The books are very thorough and detailed, with live illustrations: they can be opened with a right spell and seen three-dimensionally. I’m absorbed in one explaining how to slow internal bleeding when I suddenly feel tingly and warm. I glance around slowly but see no-one.

So this is how it is going to be? My body detects him before my eyes do? I should feel disappointed. And yet, my lips twitch in a happy and playful grin. I wipe it from my face immediately and open the illustration again. I am _not_ going to let myself act like a pet.

Then I see him.

Prince Loki is leaning against one of the inner pillars of the patio, in a shadow some ten paces away. I could swear he wasn’t there a second ago. He is clothed in black leather that is hugging his thighs and arms like a second skin. I hear a small gasp and realize it’s me. He is looking straight at me and a small smile creeps on his face. He opens his lips like he’s about to say something but instead of hearing his voice I see the illustration in my study book come to life in a very non-educational manner. I’m not sure tendrils are any good at suppressing bleeding. Then again, they just might.

The illusion changes into a sea monster from other realms and I laugh. _Very well, challenge accepted_. The sea monster will get a very unimaginative but effective rain of fire on it. I glance at the prince to see his reaction.

Loki laughs, still leaning on the pillar.

_“I thought you had not done illusions before”_ , he says in my ear. I withhold a shiver - damn that voice.

“I haven’t”, I answer, keeping my eyes on him. He nods at the book. It looks to be on fire. And so does the table.

“Well, that is not what I was aiming for, exactly.”

When I turn my head back towards him I find him standing in front of me, a mere arm’s length away. I’m too slow and my cheeks flush. He seems very pleased.

Loki takes a chair in my table. His movements are slow, predatory, but somehow also _like velvet on anyone’s skin who is looking_. I have no idea how he does that. It’s like he is Seduction personified.

“I am at your disposal whenever you feel ready, my lady”, he says with such baritone hum that my knees would buckle if I weren’t seated. Memories of our nightly moment flash in my mind and I try to shoo them away before their effect reaches any other parts of my body. He is talking about magical studies, I assure myself, failing.

“Thank you, my lord. I will keep that in mind”, I manage towards sarcasm, closing the book and not looking at him. The illusionary fire on the tome disappears with a poof that no-one hears. The fire between us just seems to grow. I need to get myself together, this is ridiculous. If he is to be my teacher - dear heavens. The idea is completely preposterous now.

I look at him and realize he saw the flashes of memory I just had. He has a teasing, self-satisfied grin that makes me want to slap him around the face and also sit on it.

I should not have thought of that. I close my eyes and curse.

“Lady Nindael, I would recommend your first lesson to be about control, not illusions”. I can hear the hidden chuckle under the words. This is going to be toilsome.

“Are you sure you are doing everything to help me in that, my lord?” I open my eyes and see him leaning his chin on his hands, playfully smiling, closer to me now than before. His long, elegant fingers do this little movement, an absentminded caress on the back of his own hand, slow circles. I try not to look at them.

“Now, where’s the challenge in that?” he says smirking and I feel in a flash what he felt that night, right before his image disappeared from above my bed. It’s controlled, compact and sent intentionally to me. And I am not prepared, my core is set aflame by it and I inhale sharply.

This is terribly unfair, he seems to be able to have me however he likes. To quote the wise: “where’s the challenge in that?” How am I supposed to fight something I want this much? Also, why?

“Look. I’m not a soldier nor am I aiming to be in any battle, not even as a healer.”

“Tsk, tsk… excuses, my lady”, he purrs and leans back in the chair. “You never know when you need to defend yourself from attacks on the mind.”

Yes, true, but will my supposed enemies try to enslave me by making me a shivering pile of carnal desire? I think not.

Then a thought hits me.

“If we keep … _training_ here in this public place, will other people see or feel… what we do?”

He smiles, knowing well what I mean. A wavy strand of his dark hair has fallen on his temple. It reminds me of what he looked like that night, hair messily spread out on his pillow, cheeks burning like mine… I stop myself there.

“They would need to be very concentrated on us specifically. Either by sight or by being somehow attuned to us. Relatives, friends, lovers can have that kind of connection. But they’d still need to be mages.”

I try to ignore the implications to our relationship.

“So… what you mean is… we could sit here and…”

_“Yes.”_

He _sends_ that, his lips do not move. His eyes are fixed on me. Then I feel that cold whisper-like touch on my skin, on the back of my neck. He is doing it slowly this time, giving me time to react. I suppress my desire to just let it continue. It feels so exquisite, especially after these two days on thinking about him.

I need to avoid his eyes. I start building an imaginary wall, a green, healing-based fence of protection around my mind. His touch slides downward on my back. I stifle the urge to purr and lean against it. The hardest struggle in this is not even to cut his connection to me - I already found a way and am close to achieving it. No, the biggest challenge is my huge, lovely, throbbing desire towards him and the talk I need to have with my self-indulgence. It is unbearably difficult to stop something that’s probably the most delicious thing I’ve ever felt. “Why?!” cries my mind. And when I say _mind_ , I mean something else entirely. Well, _suck it_ ; I need to show this arrogant trickster I can defend myself.

And after that I might just fuck him seven ways to next week.

My fences are up and I cannot feel his remote touch anymore. I strengthen them anticipating some stronger move on his part. He sits there in front of me and grins.

I test my new protection magic and let myself think of those lips devouring me, just for a second. I keep my face neutral.

“One.”

“Hmm?” He doesn’t show any signs of detecting it. Then I drop the defenses and think about it again. I feel his magic fingers on the lower part of my back.

“Two.”

His face shows a slight change in hue and I hear his breath hitch, just a bit. He sits upright, more attentive now.

“Nindael…”

I raise the defenses again, blocking his touch and possibly sends too. That one has to be checked later. I instead send him the last word, testing how the barrier works with my own intention.

_“Three.”_ I hold up three fingers in front of his eyes that now flash the icy blue.

“You can indeed defend your mind, my lady. I am impressed.”

His smile is genuine, admiring and has lots of flirt in it. I grin back at him with a hint of triumph and let my magic barrier vanish with a mental shrug. In hindsight - one second later - I realize I might have been wiser to keep it on a bit longer. I can feel his remote touch again, now on my inner thighs, slowly sliding higher. He’s sending images that make my quim convulse and my cheeks burn. Shaken, I glance at him and he licks his upper lip, just in passing, like it’s nothing - but I feel it on my nub. I yelp and instinctively close my thighs tight, but that only heightens the sensation.

Two robed figures emerge from the training balcony and walk towards the bookshelves near us. The wizards bow low when they recognize their prince. We both nod them a greeting, happy to know our table is in the shadows. The old women stop at a bookshelf and start looking for some tome. All the while Loki attacks me with his mind, the touch sliding slowly on my thighs and crotch, so close but not quite _there_. I try to calm my breathing. I could raise the barriers again… but I don’t want to. I squeeze my thighs together and try to look as nonchalant as possible.

For the sake of appearances he gently takes one of my study books in his hands and opens it randomly. He has a small smile on his lips, eyes full of mischief and blue sparkles. His long fingers slide on one page, like he’s looking for a particular chapter on it, but then he starts making small circles over a picture, coincidentally or not, of a flower. He doesn’t change the remote touch, it still lingers around my thighs, but I feel a jolt in my core nonetheless just by looking at the movement of his fingers.

“My lord, I should probably retire to study…”

_“You don’t want to do that now.”_ The low purr of his sent voice is a caress. He looks at me under his eyelashes and is so incredibly alluring I’m again convinced he wouldn’t need any magic to persuade anyone. The magic, well, it really is just a medium.

_“What I want… is something I cannot do here.”_

“Allow me to carry those for you,” he offers openly. The two wizards are still near.

_“I’m not sure that’s a good idea.”_

I’m a bit afraid of my desires. I’ve never felt this strongly towards anyone in my life. Losing myself in madness is one thing I cannot afford to do. He picks up the books and we stand up. I hesitate, not certain my legs are to be trusted. He has ceased all his ministrations now, which is good news for walking publicly. My underpants are soaked.

_“Why not? We are both free and independent …and we both want this intensely.”_

He smiles neutrally for the sake of possible onlookers, but I see the blue flash in his eyes. It’s like it tells of his true nature whenever he is feeling something strongly, be it anger or desire.

We walk in silence towards my quarters. There’s no magic or communication for a while, but the tension between us is so palpable I need to calm my breathing every minute. I try lying to myself that I’m not yet sure what I will decide. The anticipation almost makes me trip.

We reach my door. There are no other people in this part of the hallway. Turning to him I am mesmerized by his beauty, the scalding desire I can feel surging from his aura, the lightning-like flashes of blue now visible to me around him.

_“At my pace, then.”_

_“Always, my lady.”_

After the door closes behind us Loki places the books on the nearest table. His hand hovers on the lock of the door and he waits for my sign. I nod. My heart is pounding so much I cannot hear anything else. He clicks the lock shut and looks at me with such fervor it’s like a wave in the ocean and I’m seaweed. I feel trapped, and at the same time like I’m about to sprout valkyrie wings and plunge to a freefall. I open my mind and let him feel, see, know everything I desire.

“Yes, ma’am”, he whispers with a husky, breathless voice and lunges at me. Our lips meet, his tongue pushes softly inside my mouth and the ground disappears under my feet.

I return to my consciousness a few seconds later. We are undressing each other with ardor in our haste. My trembling fingers unlace his leather trousers, his deft hands slip under my gown and find my underpants. He inhales my scent, and then lets out a sigh that ends in a short groan. I’ve been ready for him for hours. He slides the panties down my thighs and I can feel how damp they are. I can feel his fingertips sending tiny ice blue electric shocks all the way from my thighs to my ankles. I try to pull his trousers downward. Damn you, leather, you gorgeous but frictious thing.

Somehow we have moved towards the bed and Loki pushes me on it, towering over me with a wicked grin, knowing I like being handled with just a bit of domination. It seems to suit him more than well, and I love it. He slides my underpants off my ankle, dropping them to the floor, and holds my leg by his hip.

The fantasy I used earlier testing my magic protection flashes in my mind. Our eyes meet, and by the time his lips have reached my inner thighs I am almost panting. He does it like I want him to, and more. His lips and his famous silver tongue finally touch my clit and he devours me, deeply, softly, moaning. I whimper loudly. My mind is bombarded by his sensations, his thoughts and his feelings. He lets me know how he loves my taste, how it’s making him crazy. I can feel the almost painful physical need he is experiencing _,_ I can _feel_ how he feels the swelling and throbbing of his member still trapped under the tight leathers like it was my own. And I now know its precise measurements.

_“Come… enter me… please”,_ I send, craving feverishly.

_“Patience, darling.”_

He slides his hands under my buttocks and eats me hungrily. I’m so close I’m dizzy and so is he. In a second of clarity I realize what’s about to happen. I glance at the regal head of dark locks between my thighs.

_“If I climax now you know you will--“_

_“I know.”_

_“But--”_

_“There’s enough of me for several rounds, my lady.”_

I feel him approaching the peak the same pace with me, his mouth now sucking my nub with urgency. He feels what I feel, I feel what he feels; and all these feelings feed on each other. It’s like having several incorporeal lovers at me or various minds in my head. I clench the sheets in my fists and my vision goes white. Our orgasm is _one_ , and I cry out in pleasure, eyes open, seeing nothing. I know he grips himself in his hand and spills all over his fingers, groaning. I love how it feels, thick and throbbing in my mind.

My whole being purrs.

Loki’s hands – magically clean and not at all sticky, what is he, a warlock? - glide over my belly, my breasts, and he slowly helps me out of my gown. I don’t know how and when he undressed but I can now feel the touch of his skin all over my own. He snakes by my side, caressing me with every part of him, not just hands. His skin feels hot, which is a contradiction to the icy blue glow that now surrounds him completely. He moves on top of me, leaning on his hands, our lower bodies touching. His eyes are bright blue, piercing.

He is already rock hard. At least the trickster didn’t boast without merit. He slides his cock over my sensitive, soaked, swollen clitoris and it feels heavenly.

_“Would you like me to…?”_

“YES!”

We share a grin and a chuckle for our private joke. He enters me, finally. The laugh ends in a deep long moan that ends in a deep kiss. He fills me completely and then some. He starts a rhythm, listening my pleasure and the limits of my pain, keeping it _just there_ , at the edge of it. I feel every push with bliss, from his side and mine. He finds angles that make me see stars. Our lips slide wetly, hungrily against each other, my clawing hands try to find purchase on his back, on his gorgeous buttocks. Our moans, muffled cries and the intoxicating smell of sex fill the room.

When his searching thumb slides over my slick clit I lose myself in euphoria.

His rapture is synchronous with mine.


End file.
